


The Nostalgia of a Winner

by Detavot



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Astre is O!Ciel's name and only yana can convince me otherwise, Ciel lived through so much shit, Ciel starts to relive some memories before he leaves the world behind, Ciel wins, F/M, Gen, Good on you Sebby, Grell is just laughing at the mess, Grim Reapers, Implied Death, Male pronouns for Grell because 19th century Ciel doesn't have an open mind, Memories, Mentioned suicide, Sebastian is having fun even in this state, adult!ciel - Freeform, mangaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detavot/pseuds/Detavot
Summary: Twelve years ago, Ciel had made a Contract. Two years ago, his revenge was completed.Two years ago, Ciel had burned his dead body.





	The Nostalgia of a Winner

**Author's Note:**

> Ciel has lived through so much and it's my theory he tries to cope with his horrible life by thinking of everything as a game. 
> 
> Why not do the same now?

    Restless nights were a normal occurrence for the young man currently laying down in the large bed beside his love. His single visible eye, a dull blue, was staring at the lovely lady slumbering so peacefully next to him. The lady looked lovely even in this vulnerable state, which was not a type of compliment the man gave often. He turned his gaze from his slumbering wife and stared instead at the ceiling.

    Ciel “Astre” Phantomhive slipped from underneath the covers with practised ease, taking care to not wake the beautiful Lady Elizabeth. His head was filled to the brim with topics unrelated to one another, he felt as if his head was being torn apart just from the sheer amount of thoughts spinning around his mind. The manor was quiet, the dark shadows taking their rightful reign in this manor built by a demon. He did not fear the dark. The dark was the only relief he had found in life, the dark was the only sanctuary he had known--but this still dark disturbed him. The shadows did not move, the dark corners did not feel like watchful eyes, the moon was not mocking him with its pure, stolen light. It was a humane, silent night. Ciel felt fear deep in his heart and mind, for any humane thing could not be trusted.

    Twelve years ago, it had been. Ciel could remember it like yesterday, he could almost feel those cold, filthy bars in the empty air if he just reached out. He could still hear his brother’s screams if it was silent enough. He could still smell the suffocating air, he could still feel the drugs in his veins, he could still see the godforsaken altar, he could still hear the laughter and chants, he could still taste the grime they served as food.

    “Sebastian,” he whispered, his voice quiet but strong. He needed the confirmation even though he knew that his butler and dog were gone. He had grown since that day twelve years ago, he did not need to beg Sebastian for salvation anymore. He did not need to scream, cry, kneel for the demon’s amusement anymore. He had won the game. So why did he feel like he had lost? Why did he want the demon back in his estate, with his hands dripping with his brother’s blood and his stomach full with his brother’s soul?

    He stared into the forest, trying to see any assassins who could be polluting the beautifully dark trees. His protection was flawless, he had made sure of it, but humans were lying, treacherous creatures. No matter the precautions he could take, humans were beyond reason and logic. He had learned that when _they_  had taken his brother instead of him.

    His eye grew distant at the thought of his brother’s two deaths, both by his hand with his selfishness as the excuse. Eight years ago, Sebastian’s laugh had provoked his beside his brother’s corpse. The two had laughed with insanity and greed, sitting on the grass, leaning against each other and ignoring the thirteen year old corpse looking unseeingly at the sunny sky. Ciel did not think he had ever laughed that genuinely before, if he didn't count the aftermath of that circus nine years ago.

    Ciel was broken. Sebastian and he had always known this fact, and they had both known he could never be repaired. Sebastian had been the only flimsy glue holding his sanity and body together. Sebastian had done what his family and friends could not do--he had made sure Ciel could hold on tightly to his life. The game they played, however demented and insane it had been, was the only thing that had given his life purpose. Ciel reckoned that had been his fatal mistake, holding onto that game and the petty victory it had promised.

    Ciel thought about the friends he had made in his life. First, he thought of Tanaka. The quiet, strict Japanese man who had been his caretaker for ten years and house steward for four additional years. After his brother’s second death, the old man had left without a word or a glance to him. Ciel couldn't blame him. He then thought of his three incompetent servants: Mey-Rin, Baldroy and Finnian. Mey-Rin and Baldroy, after finding out Sebastian’s true identity, had tried to take Ciel with them to flee. Sebastian had caught them, and Ciel did not want to remember any more of that memory.

    Ciel had managed to save Finnian, sneaking the blonde who reminded him so much of himself through the secret passages he had never told even Sebastian about. Ciel thought he was alive somewhere and making his own way through life, and that was enough. Ciel couldn't bring himself to try to make sure, for his very presence could bring the blonde misfortune.

    Ciel began to stroke the Phantomhive ring thoughtfully before thinking about Soma Asman Kadar and his loyal _khansama_ Agni. The two had been ‘the peaceful idiot combo’ between Sebastian and him, and the two sinners had held those pure human beings in high regard. They were perhaps the first people to open his eyes and heart after three agonising years, the first people who had made him believe in humanity again. Agni’s belief had been frightening at first, looking at Ciel’s past experiences with belief, but the two had become an inseparable past of him soon enough. He remembered Agni’s corpse, mutilated by his newly resurrected brother, and the rage in Soma’s eyes. He remembered telling Soma revenge wasn't worth his life or soul, giving Soma a job and praising his hard work. Soma was also one of the few he had managed to save from the claws of impending doom.

    Ciel remembered the hybrid named Snake, his fifth and final servant. His ressurected brother had revealed Ciel’s lie, and Snake had been a huge mess afterwards. He had run away, swearing to revenge and mistrust towards humans such as himself. Ciel did not know where he was or whether Sebastian had killed him just to get rid of a future threat. Ciel had acted like he didn't care, but the reason for his chosen ignorance was simply the fact that he was scared of the answer Sebastian might give.

    He remembered Frederick Abberline, the honorable detective who would do anything for justice and peace. His promotion had come along five years ago, if memory served. After the promotion, he had severed all of his ties with Ciel. “I will be a worthy police officer and solve cases in the light! I will not be a coward who hides behind you anymore, Ciel!” had been his farewell, and Ciel hadn’t had the courage to tell him that he was already braver and worthier than Ciel had been in his entire life. Frederick Abberline was now a famous detective without an error in his detection. Ciel felt proud, even if he had no right to feel so and he never stopped following the man's success, even if he had no right to do so.

    He remembered the genius Sieglinde Sullivan and her loyal butler Wolfram. She had also recently severed her ties with him three years ago, saying how he was not the same. Ciel had laughed at her face, and was replied by the door slamming as it cut his relationship with her. It did not matter, Ciel supposed. He was not the same as before, he did not need to care about her anymore. But he always would have a soft spot for her, the little witch who had had a rude awakening in Germany. He had shrugged and promised himself to visit once in a while in secret, and he did. If Ciel had the courage to look her in the face right now, he would try to shake her out of whatever state she was in before she doomed herself and humanity. He didn't.

    The final person he remembered was the most painful one: Sebastian. He remembered, twelve years ago, how he had come from his brother’s blood and solidified into a million shapes. He remembered, ten years ago, how they had finally gotten used to each other and started their game in earnest. For years, they had had a shaky companionship (Ciel could even reluctantly call it ‘friendship’, though he certainly never said or would ever say it to Sebastian’s face). The one being Ciel could trust, only because he held the beast’s leash tight; the one human who could make him kneel, only because Ciel had always been the exception. His aesthetics, perfection, roles, and the expertly twisted truths which could bring Satan and God alike to their knees. How Sebastian would wrap his arms around him, how Sebastian would be the first name to come to mind. Was it sheer lunacy, feeling comfort in the arms of the creature which would one day snuff his life out like a pathetic flame?

    Ciel remembered two years ago, when he had won the most important and enjoyable game of his life. Ciel remembered the sneer he wore as he chugged that sweet poison, he remembered how it had burned his throat and stomach in the best ways possible. He remembered falling before Sebastian could catch him, he remembered dying before Sebastian could tear into his soul. He remembered lifting up into Heaven before Sebastian could drag him to the bottom of his stomach.

    Ciel remembered his eyes failing him, he remembered Grell’s hysterical laughter as he woke. He remembered the Contract breaking, replacing amethyst with a neon green hue. He remembered the shock on Sebastian’s face and then his smirk. Sebastian had bowed to him and said in that inhumanely perfect voice, “Well played, Earl Phantomhive.” 

    “Ciel,” he had replied, extending his hand in a second greeting. “Just Ciel. And what shall I call you now, demon?” The word he had once used as an insult was now only a statement, a fact.

    "I have grown fond of the name you've given me. I shall remain as Sebastian to you, always.” Ciel nodded and they had shaken hands as equals for once in so many years. Their once shaky companionship had changed to a detestable friendship but the two, like always, did not care about what others thought.

    The change in the room was not unnoticed by Ciel, the way the shadows suddenly came to life and the corners turned watchful yet again. The moon’s false light reflected the lies Ciel had told in life, and Ciel finally felt alive. Sebastian turned into the butler facade and stopped just behind him, a smirk on his face like always. “It’s been two years, Ciel.”

    “It has,” the young Reaper agreed. “Where is the red nuisance?” The nickname was ten years old but Ciel couldn't deny that it still suited his new coworker. Sebastian chuckled, probably thinking the very same thing.

    “On his way. Have you had a good vacation?” He was surprisingly well behaved, Ciel knew the demon had wreaked absolute chaos for the last two years to replace the beautiful soul that had once been Ciel's and his. Ciel looked at the reflection of his blue eye, the only humanity he had left which would disappear once he had completed his training. He and the others supposed having a Reaper's genes in him was the reason the blue had stayed for so long, but Ciel had always been a strange human and would continue to be a strange otherworldly being.

    “The loose ends are all tied, now. This world has nothing left for me except the humans’ pitiful tragedies. Would you like to do the honours?” Sebastian exhaled breathily and undid the eyepatch for what would be the last time. Ciel’s blinked both eyes open and grinned. Finally, he was free of cages. The cages of his sellers, of the cultists, of Sebastian, of the title ‘Earl’ he had never wanted in the first place, of the name ‘Ciel Phantomhive’ and the dead body of his brother.

    He was himself, finally. Not Astre Phantomhive, the naïve boy whose dream had been to build a small toy shop; not Ciel Phantomhive, who was a ruthless killer and born for a life of luxury. Just ‘Ciel’. A flash of red caught his eye and his grin shrunk to a gentle smile, the familiarity of the brash colour calming him as it always had. Grell Sutcliff had arrived later than the appointed time, a behaviour Ciel had first learned nine years ago was completely normal.

    “How are you, dear?” his colleague asked, grinning widely. Ciel wasn’t so surprised that Elizabeth was able to sleep through even Grell’s grating voice, he knew supernatural beings were able to mask their voices as well as their appearances. Grell was still wearing Madame Red’s coat, but Ciel no longer felt the repulsion or hatred he had once harboured for the Crimson Reaper. He guessed immortal life, even a mere two years of it, made it hard to hold grudges. Or maybe this was just the 'Astre' side of him talking.

    “Rested,” he lied, his old habits hard to abandon. Not that he was really trying. “We have a few long few decades ahead of us, don't we?” Grell nodded, smirking predatorily. Ciel did not have to say that this was because of his dear, _idiotic_ friend Sieglinde, Grell already knew.

    “By the way,” Grell said, taking out his agenda. He tapped his pen against his lips, acting as if he were in deep thought. “The lady slumbering away over there is not meant to die until she’s in her forties.”

    Sebastian tilted his head and put on an innocent expression. Ciel fought the urge to laugh at how wrong it looked on his face, even more so now that he didn't bother spending too much effort on the human facade. “Surely, you can make an exception for our friendship.”

“Make it friends-with-benefits, dear Bassy, and I’ll make more than a mere _exception_.”

    Ciel rolled his eyes and put on the training glasses he hid in one of the locked drawers of his desk. He walked to where Lizzy slumbered and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Be strong, dearest,” he whispered against her lips. “When the time comes, swallow your pride and run.”

    “Let’s get this show started!” Grell said gleefully, the moonlight shining off his glasses in a menacing way. Ciel and Sebastian shared a glance and grinned sadistically. The three supernatural beings left only an empty casket to be buried in Astre Phantomhive’s already prepared grave, and an empty space in bed where Ciel Phantomhive should be. 


End file.
